


A Little Time Away

by NairobiWonders



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Joanlock - Freeform, Platonic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4932046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NairobiWonders/pseuds/NairobiWonders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan goes on vacation with her family. Sherlock rattles around the brownstone, until she comes home. </p><p> </p><p>Posted on tumblr but it's really too long for tumblr ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She’d been out of the brownstone for just four days. Four days! And it had disrupted his whole life. He cursed himself for allowing the tentacles of emotions, friendship or …. or whatever this was, to invade his being and weaken him.

Sherlock had not slept since Watson was dragged off by her family into the wilds of upper New York State on a so-called family vacation. They’d texted back and forth for half of the first day until they took her deeper into the woods where the rented cabin sat without cell signal, wifi or any other sort of modern communication services. “Probably rely on carrier pigeons,” he grumbled as he wandered from room to room.

During her absence, at least the first part of it, Sherlock kept himself busy. He consulted with Detective Bell on a simple homicide. He invited Alfredo to dinner, went to meetings, worked on cold cases, started and finished several experiments, caught up on his apiary journals - it was amazing how much one could accomplish with no sleep and without the constant nattering of Watson.

But tonight was night four and he was feeling the lack of sleep and of Watson. He couldn’t get comfortable in his room or in the library or lock room or media room or the spare upstairs room. He even tried the roof hoping the drone of the bees would help. It didn’t.

He passed by her bedroom and sighed. He walked in and stared at the stark room. Sherlock scolded himself once more for his dependency. What a sad state of affairs. This would need to be rectified. More time apart was called for. He sat on the edge of her bed. It certainly was comfortable. He swung his legs up and aimed his head towards the pillows. The faint scent of her soothed his agitation. He would just lay here for a second, and collect his thoughts. His eyes fluttered and sleep overcame him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sky was dark with just the faintest of signs in the east of the coming dawn. Joan opened the brownstone door quietly. The downstairs was dark which hopefully meant he was asleep somewhere in the house. She watched where she stepped.

The family vacation had proved anything but. The forced time together was uncomfortable and awkward. The Watson family was not one to talk through problems and feelings. Their time at the cabin was spent, for the most part, avoiding each other. In the morning, Oren and his wife would disappear into the woods in one direction while Joan would go off in another. Her mom and step-dad spent their days by the lake, fishing and napping. Joan felt very alone in the midst of her family. She wished she had convinced Sherlock to come along. She missed him. His presence amid the family dysfunction would have caused chaos but she would have been a lot less lonely and certainly had more fun.

She was just glad it was over. A tired Joan made her way upstairs. All she wanted right now was a few hours of sleep in her own bed.

The door to her room was open and in the dark grey light she saw him. Sherlock had crawled under the covers. He lay on his side sound asleep with his head nestled in her pillows and his mouth open. She hoped he wasn’t drooling.

Joan should have been mad but instead a slow smile spread across her face. He looked so cute snuggled into her bed. She was probably the only person on the planet who would describe Sherlock Holmes with the word ‘cute.’ His abrasive nature never let anyone close enough to see inside.

She approached the bed and watched him, wondering how long he’d gone without sleep before collapsing here. Her decision was made with barely a thought. She removed her shoes, gently lifted the covers and got in bed next to him. It was her bed, she was tired, he looked dead to the world and most likely would not remember a thing.

Joan eased herself in, backing up into him a bit, in effect becoming the little spoon to his big. Sherlock stirred behind her. He came slightly closer to her and placed his hand at her waist. He mumbled drowsily, “Welcome home, Watson.”

Joan snuggled a little closer to him, “Glad to be home.” His arm fell around her and held on tighter as he took in a deep breath. Contently, they sunk quickly into comfortable sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joan gets up before he does and brings him breakfast.

“Rise and shine!” Joan put the breakfast tray down on the bed and threw open the window shutters.

Bolting awake from a deep sleep, a very confused Sherlock lifted himself onto his elbows. Squeezing open one eye and then the other, he tried to focus and gather his bearings.

Joan kept chattering as she opened more shutters. “It’s nearly ten a.m. Time to start the day.” She turned back to the bed and picked up the tray. “I’ve brought you breakfast and picked out a nice suit for you.” She motioned to the chair where she had laid out his clothes.

Sherlock pushed himself up into a sitting position and wiped at his face with both hands. He squinted at her. Watson appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the role reversal while he was slightly embarrassed to have been caught in her bed.

Joan placed the tray at his lap. “Eat before it gets cold.” She smiled at his confusion and he couldn’t help but return her look with his own crooked smile.

Sherlock cleared his throat. “When did you get in?”

“Around five this morning.” She motioned for him to eat and he picked up his fork.

“You’ll have to excuse my presence in your bed. I hadn’t slept for a few days and I must have dozed off….” His tone was low and formal.

“It’s alright. There was enough room on the bed for both of us.” Joan tilted her head at him and he raised an eyebrow. 

He plowed through his memory searching for any thread of remembrance of sharing the bed with her. "I hope I behaved appropriately.“ Sherlock examined her face.

Joan suppressed a smile. "You exceeded my expectations,” she flashed her eyes at him suggestively. 

He stared, at first frustrated he had no memory of the encounter and then beginning to see she was pulling his leg. “Ah, you joke.” He addressed his breakfast before she could see the disappointment on his face.

“Mind if I sit?” Joan was already making her way around the bed.

“Be my guest. After all it is your bed.” He took a bite of his bacon as Joan fluffed up a pillow and made herself comfortable.

“Would you care for some breakfast.” He motioned at the tray. “You brought enough here for at least two or thre.”

“I thought you’d be hungry. I know how you get. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep. You need to take care of yourself. I was worried about you while I was gone.”

Her genuine concern touched him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had brought him breakfast in bed. Sherlock’s face softened as he listened to her. “Thank you Watson. I appreciate your concern.” They shared a quiet moment, their feelings communicated without words.

Sherlock broke the moment lest he get carried away. “How was your vacation?” he asked knowing she probably needed to vent a bit. Time with family was not usually pleasurable for either of them.

Joan reached for a piece of his toast. “God, where do I begin…” She proceeded to regale him with tales from the Watsons’ forced time together. 

Joan was relieved to be able to complain freely about her family to him. He understood. He ate and listened and even chuckled once or twice.

Sherlock offered her some more of his breakfast as she talked and some of his tea. Joan took a sip or two from the cup and handed it back to him. He took a sip. Their eyes met and held for a second.

“I missed you.” Sherlock blurted out before he could stop himself. Embarrassed, he put the teacup down and stared down at his tray.

He felt Joan move in closer until her upper arm was touching his. Her head dipped to his shoulder and she cut her eyes up to look at his face.

“That’s funny,” she said lightly, “because not once did I miss you. Not once did I wish you were there to talk to; not once did I wonder what you were doing or wish you were sitting beside me.” Her voice became softer, more serious with each word she said, “Not once did I think oh, Sherlock would love this; not once did I want you there to share the moment with me.” She paused and whispered. “I didn’t miss you at all.”

He moved his head sideways. His cheek dropped to the top of her head. The memory of her coming to bed earlier that morning surfaced for him. He gently rubbed his cheek across her hair. “Watson,” was all he could manage to say but the name was imbued with all the meaning of a sonnet.

Joan leaned in closer. Turning her head upwards she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and lingered there. “Sherlock?” she finally whispered.

“Mmm?” He responded.

“Your tea’s getting cold.”

Sherlock looked at her in time to catch the sweet, mischievous look in her eye. A smile broke out between them as they pulled away from each other.

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” He fidgeted with the items on the tray.

Joan moved off the bed. “Get dressed and meet me downstairs.” She called over her shoulder at him. “And we can go in search of murder and mayhem together.”

Sherlock watched her walk out of the room with small content smile on his face.


End file.
